


time after time

by Mangerine



Category: World Trigger (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M, Making it work with a google calendar and hope, Secret dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:48:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22089658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mangerine/pseuds/Mangerine
Summary: OK google, tips on dating an idol?orDating takes more time management skills than Izumi had ever imagined.
Relationships: Izumi Kouhei/Satori Ken, Jin Yuuichi/Tachikawa Kei
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. Pink Thursday

His squad knew, Tachikawa and Kunichika both; Tokieda and Kitora suspected, Netsuki didn’t have a clue. Their odds could be worse.

Izumi swirled the rest of his diluted, gritty, vending machine coffee in the paper cup, watching the black liquid catch the white light from the small window of the stairwell. The sky turned dark an hour ago, and only got darker since.

What time was it?

He reached for his cell phone, warm in his back pocket from checking the time – every minute for the past hour, plausibly – before stopping himself. He only had 21% left of his battery. No point in wasting it.

From the dingy square, tactfully regarded as a window, he could see the last of the spectators trickling out the stadium, plodding slowly. Tired, no doubt, but each step still strung with enthusiasm. Most were in green and orange, home team colours, but all had small flags in red, black and white.

Colours of another home team.

Two days ago, over dinner, the evening rerun of some mediocre anime was interrupted by a live news stream. An Ilgar, with a plan and enough bombs to collapse Mikado city faster than a poorly made soufflé, making its merry way to downtown Mikado, near the retirement homes, parks, and of course, the stadium – a full house. His older sister screamed at him to go help, as he stuffed another croquette into his mouth, picked up the remote, and switched the channel.

If they needed the A-rank shooter, they’d call.

The next day in class he heard that it ended without much fuss, which was as much as he expected, shuffling his arms so they didn’t go entirely numb as he napped at his desk.

He also got a message asking for a raincheck on the date he’d been waiting two weeks for.

That, he didn’t expect.

Arashiyama squad had intercepted the Ilgar, he was told, over a very apologetic text, with no casualties, human or architectural. They’d managed to lead it to another path when they figured it was programmed to follow bright lights, and this new model attacked solely at night, easily targeting densely populated areas.

“uh huh”

Sent 9:00:36AM

Gunners Arashiyama and Tokieda were positioned on rooftops, doing their best as distraction as Kitora negotiated with the stadium to turn the lights off- no time to evacuate the civilians-

“uh huh”

Sent 9:01:12AM

They bought enough time for the engineers to equip Sniper Satori’s rifles with flares – eventually guiding the Ilgar to the river, where it was safely detonated.

…typing…

Last seen 9:02:05AM

…typing…

“wish I could have seen that”

Sent 9:02:20

“you’re never looking, senpai! >:(“

Sent 9:02:35

For their bravery, Arashiyama squad was due to make an appearance the week after, as special guests of the Mikado Stadium. Tickets sold out overnight, and seats anywhere near the squad were selling online for prices out of reach for any high school student, especially so for those who squandered it on croquettes and ebi tempura.

Then the teacher walked in and class started. He caught a glimpse of a message in his bag, where he stuffed his phone: enough emojis to suggest excitement and cheer, before it was pushed away, replaced by another message preview.

“sorry, senpai”

Homeroom droned on as Izumi thought of snipers crouching behind low walls and fences, windburned on rooftops, just watching and waiting, watching and waiting for an opportune shot, before they flexed their trigger finger once, activated their bagworm, and ran for it.

Rinsing and Repeating, Hide, Shoot, Run. But even so, they were _doing_ something.

On Thursday, when they’d planned to go to the arcade and make the adults envy their metabolisms by eating their weight in snacks, his sniper would just be watching,

and watching

and watching.

So the least Izumi could do was wait.

**2315h**

The slop in his cup was cold now, and rushed to meet the lip of the rim like a lover as he swirled it absently.

What the hell, Izumi thought, twisting his hand, wrist up, letting the stuff fall onto the concrete, splattering a black trail to the stairs. He let the paper cup slip through the gap between the handrails, hitting the bottom of the stairwell with an unsatisfying

tak!

Like a small bird flying into a window.

They both agreed that sports, unless you were participating, was frankly, fucking boring. But he had a job to do, and grousing did the team no good, so even if he wasn’t allowed to eat any cotton candy (the only good part of spectator sports) because he’d make a mess of himself, he might as well smile through the game.

He might as well.

They both agreed that the job just took and took. And the more Satori gave, Izumi corresponded with taking. Every polite response on a televised lambasting, with an abrasive remark in the Izumi household. Every night rushing through schoolwork after an interview, with Izumi sleeping through class the next day. Satori doesn’t read through his fanmail anymore, and his squad is noticing the gifts he leaves unopened in the operation room. All Izumi does in his free time is read, idly pulling up articles like: 

“Quiet places for dates”

“Private dinners”

“Idol scandals”

“Idol revealed to have romantic relations-”

The Earth tilted with the weight of the people’s ignorance. Mikado city lounged and watched as Satori whittled himself away, a pencil so sharp it went brittle.

Valentine’s spent on a promotional photoshoot, White Day forgone for a fan signing event, their anniversary briefly acknowledged near its expiry after three hours of patrol. What else could they do? This is how the world keeps its balance, Izumi thought. Satori sitting on his hands, biting his tongue, Izumi nipping at ankles, full of restless spite. Where else would this resentment go? What else could he do?

and for god’s sake

what time was it?

**2330h**

They unlock the small room and trigger off, slipping back into civilian garb. Kitora wordlessly passes around a bottle of hand sanitizer, and they each rub the sharp smelling gel into their hands. It seemed cruel to do this every time they had a meet and greet with the citizens, but a cold was going around, and they couldn’t afford to fall sick now. Netsuki knocks, and they know it’s him because of the way he always knocks with a one. Onetwothree,four! one-two rhythm, and Arashiyama unlocks the door, letting him in.

**2335h**

The debrief starts as they shrug on their coats. The central heater wheezes above them, and the cold sets in. Netsuki hands them their schedule for the week, colour-coded excel rectangles that take up the whole paper. They have

Red, for patrol duties [their uniform]

Blue, for school [a scholarly colour, according to Netsuki]

Yellow, for media events [the bright lights]

**2345h**

Satori pulls out his pencil case and digs through it for a small, pink highlighter. Izumi won it as a consolation prize at the school festival, some shooting game. It always made him laugh, the face he’d made when Satori presented him with his prize: A pudding coloured stuffed toy of a puppy — the size of a chair.

His pride didn’t let him accept the gift easily, so he slipped the cheap highlighter into his palm, and called it a trade.

He runs his finger down the ‘Thursday’ column, stopping at a small white rectangle after a long stretch of blue. He uncaps the highlighter and scribbles in a small, pink heart

before smothering the whole space in pink.

He packs his bag, slings it on, and slips out into the dark hallway, the last to leave.

If he brings it up:

Izumi would have to frown, and say

“…sorry, I have border patrol this week, they moved it forward-”

“The expedition trip, right?”

“Yeah, sorry, Satori,”

So he decides not to bring it up, not the pink space on his timetable, not the expedition trip that would take up the whole winter. And especially not the big news that Netsuki just broke to them.

x

“The expedition trip this time round,” Izumi said, standing, “I’m going to sit out of it.”

“Either we go as a team, or we’re stuck here for the winter. You know that,” Tachikawa replied, not turning from the tv, where a silent recording of a rank war was playing.

“We could send in an appeal-“

Tachikawa made an irritable tch, turning to look at Izumi for a dark second, before turning around again.

So maybe bringing up more paperwork was bound to get his captain on edge, especially right around finals season.

“We already went last summer,” Izumi tried.

“And I ate last night, so tonight, I’ll just starve,” Tachikawa replied.

Eating isn’t quite the same as fighting for your life in a foreign plane, Izumi wanted to say, but Tachikawa would be all too happy to play devil’s advocate, so he left that can of worms alone.

The video ended then, and Tachikawa paused the autoplay, turning around.

“What, you got extra classes?”

“Grades are fine, I just-“

“Then what the hell? I thought you had fun last trip.”

“I-” Izumi tried, but found that the memory of fun seemed so distant it was foreign now. He replays the first time he triggered on, the first Asteroid he released, like a firework in his hands. Easy memories that always thrilled him before.

Nothing.

It’s not a game anymore. He’s still young and stupid and impulsive, but he can’t stop the tiredness creeping into his heart. All he sees is Satori changing out his bullet-ridden target board for another, and another, and another. All for the city, he smiles, his tired little smile. It’s not a game anymore.

“Oh, I get it,” Tachikawa said, surly.

“Don’t start-” Izumi shot back, forgetting that he wasn’t there for a fight.

“Like hell we’re going to stay here all fucking winter because you’re waiting for some hour you can squeeze into your boyfriend’s schedule!” Tachikawa snapped.

Kunichika, their operator, takes the opportunity to roll in from game centre on her chair, removing one headphone, chirpy music squeaking from her video game.

“We submitting our application?” She asked.

“Yeah, thanks,” Tachikawa replied without looking at Izumi, reaching out for the document and pen she’s holding out. He scanned the document too quickly to be reading it, clicked the pen once and signed furiously under his printed name.

He looked Izumi once in the eye, before his pen shot across the page again, signing Izumi’s name in a perfect forge.

“Hey-!”

“Tachikawa squad is going for the winter expedition,” Tachikawa announced, his voice too loud in the small room.

“That’s me,” Tachikawa punctuated, “Our lovely operator,” to which Kunichika giggled,

“and you.”

Izumi stood stunned, staring at Tachikawa’s finger, pointing straight at him. Even as Tachikawa put his earbuds back in and turned the mock battles back on, Izumi stared dumbly from where he stood until Kunichika rolled over with their snack basket on her lap.

“It’s prooo—bably for your own good,” Kunichika whispers peaceably, tossing Izumi a lollipop. “You’ve been down for a while, Captain’s just not a patient guy.”

“Don’t take it too hard,” she continued when Izumi just stared at the red lollipop in his hand, “he’s probably speaking from experience?”

Izumi turned stiffly towards her, confusion inking his face.

Kunichika giggled again, sticking a hand into the snack basket and pulling out a crinkling bag, shaking it at him.

Bonchi crackers.

x

Waiting for Jin was a fool’s errand, and his captain was an idiot, but never a fool. Or maybe he was a fool once, when he was Izumi’s age.

“Izumi-senpai?” A small voice called behind the door.

“I’m here,” he replied.

Satori pushed open the heavy door, wincing at its loud protest. When he entered the dark stairwell, he zoned in on the small open window by instinct, stretching to peer out for any sign of movement.

“Calm down, sniper,” Izumi nudged, pulling his left glove off and handing it to Satori. He pressed their hands together, his warm left palm to Satori’s clammy right, and led them slowly down the coffee-splotched stairs.

“Tired?”

“Mm”

“Hungry?”

“Starving.”

“We can get ramen near the river, since we’re here. There’s this stall that’s open till-“

“Izumi senpai-”

“Hey, hey heyhey-”

“We’re going on a national scouting trip –”

“uh huh”

“The whole winter, till spring, even- ”

“…Come on, hey, come here”

“—"

“…You smell like popcorn, did they let you eat this time?”

“No chance, someone behind dropped them on me,”

“—"

“It won’t be so bad,”

“—”

“I’ll get you souvenirs, from the other side.”

“—”

“mgty’svntuh”

Izumi peeled his boyfriend off him.

“I’ll get you souvenirs too,” Satori repeated, plunging his blotchy face back into Izumi’s jacket, damp from tears.

“uh huh,” Izumi replied, not really caring for whatever snacks Satori would undoubtedly hoard for him. “We’ll eat them together when we get back.”

Satori kept his face in the jacket, the vainpot. He always hated when Izumi laughed at him for crying himself into a mess on movie nights.

“Ken, it’s a date, alright?”

Satori looked sourly at their feet.

“Ken,” Izumi said, cradling his boyfriend’s miserable face in a glove and a hand.

“You’ll mark it pink for me, won’t you?”

Satori nodded, and Izumi took his hand again, leading him down.

“The 28th?” Satori asked from behind him, sniffling.

“Yes-No. No, the 18th, I’ll be back earlier. You’ll be back on the 21st ?”

“Yes, but we have the press conference, and the dinner with the new branch leaders-“

“Well, we’ll figure it out,” Izumi said, as his phone beeped.

**0000h**

When they opened the heavy door of the stairwell, the floodlights were off, but to their surprise, a light snow. A thin layer of frost had already started covering the colourful pathway leading to the stadium.

It covered

the red tiles

the blue tiles

and the yellow tiles

and by morning, it’d be all white, for them to fill pink.

They walked the way they always did, close enough that their coats covered their linked hands, and slowly.

“Will the store be open by the time we reach?” Satori asked, rolling his heel to crunch into snow each step he took. “What time is it?”

“It’ll be fine,” Izumi said, “We have time.”


	2. White Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short glimpse: The ongoing Fools' errand

**0001h**

“Tachikawa-san, what a surprise,” Jin called from the entry of training halls.

“Jin,” Tachikawa greeted, in his civvies now, hefting his gym bag off the seat. The row of lights nearest to the training rooms shut off with an electric, zipping buzz.

“What a pity,” Jin said, looking past Tachikawa as another row of lights go dark, “and here I thought we had time for five rounds at least?”

“I’m sure you did,” Tachikawa replied, “that’s why you came here without your trion body,”

“How perceptive,” Jin smiled, as Tachikawa neared, turning to walk back into the main halls.

“You’re eating too much bonchi again, your trion body is slimmer-“

“How charming, Tachikawa san,” Jin commented wryly, elbowing Tachikawa in his side, and finding, to his dismay, that was perceptibly more muscular than his own.

“You foresaw me saying that anyway,” Tachikawa shrugged.

“Most people don’t choose the rudest future just because they can,” Jin sighed, “I see you haven’t learnt any delicacy since we last met,”

“…A week ago?”

“Was it?” Jin asked, pausing to sort through his memories, did he imagine that-- he forgot, maybe. No, a vision? But it felt so long ago, long enough for him to rush through his laundry list to catch Tachikawa at the earliest chance he could manage. Was it really only a week? The thought blindsides him.

Was he pi-

“-that plan we were streamlining- Hey, Jin, are you listening?”

“Huh? Who was?”

“What? No, streamlining, the evacuation plan? Jin, you’re all over the place.”

Jin fidgeted with his glasses, hiding his warm face behind his sleeves.

“I was just thinking,”

“Too much again,”

“-about dinner, actually.”

“This late? I guess there’s that ramen place —”

“or-” Jin inserts “there’s Burger Queen”

“Too good for ramen now?”

“There’s no privacy,”

“Who else is eating ramen at midnight on a Thursday?”

“Just two others,”

“That’s plenty privacy,”

Jin bumped his shoulder into Tachikawa.

“Humour me,”

“Too late, I’m curious now.”

“You’ve nothing to gain from it,” Jin sighed, perplexed. Not even a dinner plan went by without a mini game of tug-of-war. Typical Tachikawa.

“If you’re trying to discourage me, it isn’t working very well, Mr Elite.”

“Then maybe this will?” Jin said, as they turned into the one corner without a camera blinking down at them. Pressing up against Tachikawa, Jin pressed his open hands on his boyfriend’s broad shoulders, his own lips to the others, squarely, not lingering, but too warm to be fleeting.

Behind them, the electric buzz of more lights switching off.

“Humour me,” Jin said, pulling away to find that Tachikawa was holding him close by the small of his back.

“I may need more incentive,” Tachikawa replied, not budging.

“Later,” Jin insisted, as the hallway adjacent turned dark. “We have until evening tomorrow anyhow,”

“Nope, patrol duty. I’m going for the winter expedition. But you knew that,”

Jin didn't reply, only turned and started walking, tugging Tachikawa along. It’s always like this. He’s always like this.

“If you’re gonna sulk," Tachikawa called, "then come with me. We’re not bringing Yuiga along anyway,”

“Next time,” Jin replied, quickly.

“Do you actually see that future?” Tachikawa asked. That’d be a fun trip, fun enough to get Izumi out of his mood, even if he was just at that age where moods were still hard to shake off.

“I see a future where you come home safe,” Jin answered, “that’s the second-best future.”

“And the best?”

Finally, the door. Jin punched in some numbers, probably lost his access card again, and waited as the system unlocked the door with a series of clicks.

“You come back safe, with souvenirs,” Jin smiles, sidestepping his question – and out the open door.

“Get them yourself, come on, Jin.”

Sometime in the night, it had started snowing. Jin always hated the snow, why had he come if he knew the weather would turn this cold? Tachikawa’s not young enough to believe that it’s just for him – he still wants to know why ramen’s off the table tonight.

“Next time,”

“When?”

“Depends,”

“On?”

“You,”

“How so?”

Jin looked at Tachikawa for the briefest second, before turning and sneezing. It still flickers, that faraway future, years ahead and impossible at the same time, but still cherished, still _there_. Tachikawa and himself in a strange land, with matching gold bands on their ring fingers. They’re smiling at each other, in that way that reaches the eyes, smiling at each other like it could warm them through winter. Jin still has Tachikawa’s scarf anyway – for good measure.

His favourite future.

“You’ll see.” Jin said, smiling.

Tachikawa sighs, pulling off his scarf and tossing it on Jin.

“I better,” he mumbles, pulling Jin along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "If you're on a "diet", Jin, stop eating my fries,"

**Author's Note:**

> this pairing needs more love.


End file.
